Terror
by FromTheDepthsOfInsanity
Summary: "There's more to be had," He said, kissing his temple, "When you win." Heavy lime; manga-oriented; Kurama-x-Yuusuke


**Author's Note:** Mostly unedited. Enjoy.  
**Warnings:** Yaoi/shounen-ai/boyxboy, Kurama-x-Yuusuke, manga-oriented, heavy lime  
**Summary: **"There's more to be had," He said, kissing his temple, "When you win."  
**Disclaimer:** Yuu Yuu Hakusho is the property of Yoshihiro Togashi, FUNimation Entertainment, and Fuji TV. I make no profit, nor will I ever, from this work of fiction. The prompt for this work was provided by **RealVampiresDon'tSparkle**.

**TERROR  
MINAMINO "KURAMA" SHUUICHI AND URAMESHI YUUSUKE  
ONE-SHOT**

* * *

Down time was normally welcome, but to Yuusuke, it was a fresh Hell that he could not escape.

Juri could not tell him, or anyone for that matter, just how long this recess was going to take, so he was stuck with his team until the ring from the other stadium could be brought in. At the pace everyone was going at, it could take well into the night. That was not desirable. Festering in his own emotions and thoughts until night fell, Yuusuke shuddered at the thought and retreated.

He passed Kurama, who reclined against a rock and flipped through a book he had been given. The kitsune could be worse (thank his good luck that he wasn't.) He eyed Hiei, who was still in the throes of his hibernation. Yuusuke would give anything to sleep that soundly. KoEnma was nervously fidgeting with his escape button. Yuusuke shook his head; the prince was probably torn between testing and not testing the button to operate his damn jet-pack. He didn't even bother to look for Kuwabara; he knew he had probably flung himself headlong into the audience and danced right up to where the girls sat.

Oh, the girls. He had almost forgotten they were here too. Shizuru, Yukina, Botan, his mother, and Keiko were all watching him. Their lives depended on his victory. No pressure, right?

Yuusuke instantly sought out the bathroom. At least, in there, he could find some semblance of isolation. His hands gripped the edges of the sink as he drew near, and he glared at his reflection. Never had he looked so old before; the stress of the upcoming fight beat down on him, his anger bubbled under his skin, and most of all, his sadness chilled his core and etched deep lines into his features.

Ah, there it was.

The moment he focused on the root of his sadness, it consumed him. He looked away from himself and down at the not-so-pristine basin. What a weakling he was. He couldn't defeat Toguro once already; what made him think he could now?

Tch, stupid! It's been _twice_ now. The first time, he played you and Kuwabara like fiddles and laughed at how easily you two were fooled.

His hands balled into tight fists, rose up, and slammed down on the sink, effectively breaking it. Water sprayed out from the now fractured pipes and onto the Spirit Detective. He couldn't bring himself to care. Genkai was dead, and even with the power she had given him, he wasn't confident. All he could see was his teacher, bleeding, hurt, and dying, in his arms, desperately trying to give him some last wisdom he didn't want to hear. She never gave advice in a reasonable way, but to go to an extreme like keeling over.

He hated everything in this moment: himself, Toguro, even Genkai, but his grief enveloped him still and smothered any rage he had left in him. Yuusuke allowed himself to cry again for her. Water poured down his face, fresh from the pipes and salty from his tears.

He didn't know how long he stood there letting his emotions rule him, but the longer he dwelt, the deeper a hole he dug.

His sad thoughts of Genkai turned slowly toward his thoughts of his fight and the impossibility of a win. His chest heaved and sighed rapidly. There was no way he could do this. He was unprepared. He wasn't strong like his teacher. He couldn't save the people he loved. How could he? He was a fifteen-year-old boy, and if he hadn't been hit by that damn car because of that stupid kid, he still would be a little asshole punk doing whatever the fuck he felt like.

But nothing could be normal for him. Even from the beginning, nothing was ever normal. How many kids at school could say their mother was old enough to be their sister, that their mother was a lush, that their mother was so wrapped up in a gang that she couldn't tell where she started and _they_ ended? He had had his first sip of alcohol at five years old and not even accidentally. He knew all the normal routes the cops took. He knew where to go for a good time and a _good_ time.

How many other kids could say all that and more? Not many he'd wager.

Then there was the matter of his life, and death, after all that bullshit. He didn't need to repeat any of that; it was still so very fresh. Yuusuke's back found the smooth surface of a stall door, and slowly, he slid down to the ground. Why him? He asked himself over and over. Why couldn't some other stupid ass be saddled with all this crap?

Amidst all his reflections and griping, he was still in-tune enough to sense someone coming. Before he could see who, he had scurried back into the stall, locked the door, and pulled his feet up onto the toilet he sat on. Why the hell did someone need to come in there now when he was at his lowest?

"Yuusuke?"

Oh, great, it was Kurama, and he was looking for him specifically.

"Yuusuke, I know you're in here."

Of course you do, Yuusuke thought furiously.

"What do you want, man? Can't a guy shit in peace?" He was proud that his voice wasn't clogged from crying.

"I'd suggest more fiber in your diet if you're taking this long. I love what you did to the sink."

"It pissed me off. What the hell do you want?"

"To talk."

"No," Yuusuke growled. "I don't want to talk. I want to do my business and then go back to twiddling my thumbs."

Kurama was quiet, but Yuusuke saw him move to stand in front of his stall's door. He shut his eyes tight and tried to will the kitsune away, but when did wishing something hard ever truly come true? Kurama's beautiful slip-on shoes were darkening as he stood in the ever-growing puddle of running water. So, this was the extent of Yuusuke's fright, he thought to himself.

Yuusuke heard him sigh and felt the change in the air as the door opened. He refused to open his eyes to glare; he didn't even uncurl himself from his seat. Tenderly, Kurama shut the door behind them, should someone decide to break the lock on the main door, and moved toward his team leader.

"Yuusuke."

"Don't you know how to take a fucking hint?" Yuusuke hissed into his knees.

"I do. When needed of course," Kurama smiled despite himself. "It's my professional opinion, but I do believe that these attempts at diverting my attention are actually a cry for attention."

"Yes, 'cuz locking myself in a bathroom stall and telling you to go away definitely screams 'Please, Kurama, come freaking talk to me while I'm on the shitter.'"

Kurama chuckled and stared down at his friend. He seemed so young curled up there, so vulnerable, and so very scared. Fear took on many forms, and Kurama, in his long life, could truthfully say he's seen them all, but looking down at Yuusuke now, his experience did nothing to stave off the flow of pity, sorrow, and need to comfort.

He watched as the detective's shoulders tightened and then were forced to loosen a moment later. He couldn't help himself; swiftly, Kurama wrapped his arms around Yuusuke and rested his cheek on the top of his head. He didn't care of Yuusuke objected or not. He needed this and though he wasn't willing to admit it, wanted it as well.

"Get off me, man."

Kurama shook his head and buried his fingers into Yuusuke's hair.

"I'm giving you one last chance before I blow a hole in your stomach."

Still, Kurama didn't budge. Yuusuke, now burning with renewed rage, shoved the fox away from him and pinned him into the nearest wall. Even with his anger etching new lines into his face, Yuusuke could not hide the redness of his eyes, the tear-streaks down his cheeks, or the quivering of his plump lips.

Kurama stared, unaffected by Yuusuke's childish outburst, and was so bold as to cup Yuusuke's cheeks. Yuusuke instantly ripped away and moved back from the fox, glaring as nastily as he could muster through his still storming sadness and self-pity.

"Just leave me alone already! Damn, man, you're worse than fucking Kuwabara!"

The fox said nothing and cupped Yuusuke's face in his hands again, but also connected their lips. Yuusuke stood stock-still. How does one react to this? Kurama was a friend, a male friend at that, and hadn't shown any signs of affection outside a normal, platonic comradeship. His hands went up and covered Kurama's, just to make sure they were really there. Anger forgotten, sadness dampened, and self-pity squashed for the moment, Yuusuke closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss.

Kurama, feeling his relaxation, gently urged Yuusuke to open his mouth and slowly mapped out every inch. With the stealth he possessed since his youth, Kurama pulled his hands away from his face and moved lower. It wasn't until he untied the lopsided bow of Yuusuke's drawstrings that the detective started, successfully breaking the kiss, and grabbed Kurama's wrists.

"Relax. Not that I lack confidence in you, but this may be the last chance you have."

Yuusuke didn't look at him and instead, stared at Kurama's beautifully white hands, his long fingers, and the soft feel of his skin. He was right; of course he was right, when was Kurama ever wrong? But this was Kurama, not Keiko, and Yuusuke was sure he'd rather have his first and last with her.

Well, pretty sure. Maybe.

He ran a callous thumb over Kurama's. How the hell did he keep his hands so damn soft? It was unnatural, but then, what was truly natural about Kurama? Slowly, he guided Kurama's hand to his stomach, past the barrier of his waistband, and into the confines of his clothes to cup him and hissed at the feeling.

Kurama smirked and pulled the drawstring loose. The detective's pants held loosely around his thighs, threatening to fall to the wet ground at any moment, but they didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was Yuusuke and Kurama.

Already, he was hard and waiting for Kurama to make the first move, which Kurama did. Slowly, he ran his hand up the hot length, and just as slowly, ran it back down. Yuusuke hissed and dug his stiff fingers into Kurama's biceps.

Oh, God, he didn't expect this. Why was it so good? Kurama had barely touched him and he was already a mess.

Yuusuke leaned heavily against the wall at his back and spread his legs as much as his pants would allow. He wanted to lean into Kurama, to scream and cry, to cling to him tight, and to kiss him hard enough to squeeze the breath out of him, but he wouldn't allow it. This was weird as it was; it wouldn't do to add more awkwardness to the mix. Yuusuke's face burned red at the mere thought of being that close to Kurama.

As if this wasn't close, his brain argued, almost snickering.

Yuusuke didn't have to do anything he imagined. Kurama did it for him. The fox pressed himself close to the detective, kissed him as hard as Yuusuke wanted, and snaked his arm around Yuusuke's torso to hold him tight.

Yuusuke, however, did scream. Kurama, in typical sly fashion, had dipped his free hand into the back of Yuusuke's pants and pressed two questing digits into him. Yuusuke's toes curled at the feelings assaulting him. On one hand, he had the unrelenting pleasure of Kurama's velvety hand, and on the other, the very distracting pain of intrusion on the most private level.

But, as quickly as it started, it disappeared, and soon, Yuusuke was moaning and clinging to Kurama for support. Whatever Kurama was doing with his fingers, he didn't ever want it to stop. Involuntarily, Yuusuke kissed and nipped at Kurama's neck.

This was better than anything he could have ever imagined.

All good things come to an end eventually, and this time was no different. Yuusuke tensed, hooking his fingers once again into Kurama's biceps, and his vision went white. Heart pounding and lips painfully dry all of a sudden, Yuusuke slowly came back down from his high and breathed heavily into Kurama's shoulder.

Kurama, in smooth movements and quivering slightly with amusement and unfulfilled arousal, pulled Yuusuke's pants up and tied them. He chuckled as he finished the bow and cleaned off his soiled hand. Yuusuke looked up at him, eyes still unfocused.

"There's more to be had," Kurama said, kissing his temple, "When you win."

* * *

**Author's Note:** This oneshot was not aptly named, but I hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless. Unfortunately it's not nearly as heavy as I wanted it to be, but as I mentioned in **"Chikara,"** my track record for luck is not desirable, and I really don't wish to lose my account or any of my stories.

On another note, I hope I got this out in time for **RealVampiresDon'tSparkle**'s birthday. I believe they mentioned that their birthday was this month. If you are reading this now **RVDS**, I hope this was to your liking.

Also, as I asked in my other fics "**Lil Red Riding Hood**" and "**Blind**," among others, I'd really like some new ideas or things that you all would like to read. Just to keep it easy, I really like to operate within the Yuu Yuu Hakusho, Katekyo Hitman Reborn, or Naruto universes, but I'd be willing to branch out depending on the anime or game. I'm not very anime-savvy, as sad as it is to mention. Also, leave a brief and _**vague**_ prompt or outline for the story matter.

For example:  
Yuusuke and Hiei, lost together in Makai for X amount of days.  
Or  
Naruto and Sasuke, older and stuck together like in that one filler episode.  
Or  
Tsuna and Gokudera, actually having a quiet evening watching mind-numbing television.

I do really enjoy working with Yuusuke, Tsuna, and Naruto, so any suggestions with them would be greatly received. However, as mentioned before I'm willing to work with others depending. I'd also really like prompts to be hazy enough that I can possibly make a one- or two-shot out of them.

Of course, all credit to the prompt will be mentioned in the story itself.

Thank you for taking time to read "**Terror**" and hope you look forward to whatever I put out in the future.


End file.
